ASAP

It’s ten p.m. by the time I step off the bus in my neighborhood, having ridden it all the way to the last stop on the line, only to get back on and ride it to the other end. As I round the corner, I look up toward the convenience store.

Nathaniel’s at our usual table, reading a book beneath the fluorescent lights. He’s slouched in the plastic chair, a paperback propped on his chest as one of his long fingers skims the top. His brow furrows adorably as he turns a page.

How long has he been here? I usually get home around dinnertime, four hours ago. Was he waiting for me this whole time?

I walk up the stone steps, shifting my shoulder bag higher. Catching sight of me, Nathaniel sits up, putting the book face down on the table.

I have several missed calls and unanswered texts from him, but he doesn’t ask me about them. Instead, he stands and heads into the convenience store, the bell jingling above the door as he enters. I sit in the seat across from him, glancing at the title of the book. It’s the novelization of Sun’s drama, The Sea Prince. When he returns a few minutes later, he’s carrying a plastic bag.

“You haven’t eaten yet, have you?” he asks.

I shake my head.

From his bag, he draws out samgak gimbap, unwrapping the plastic from the triangle, careful to keep the seaweed over the rice intact, then hands it to me so that I can hold it from the wrapped side. I nibble at the seaweed and rice.

Reaching once more into the bag, Nathaniel takes out a plastic water bottle, uncapping it and placing it in front of me.

I’m relieved when he takes out a triangle of his own, as that means he isn’t planning on watching me eat.

I drink half the water bottle and Nathaniel readily takes out another, placing it beside the first.

“I was at Joah earlier,” he says. I look up. “I was worried when you didn’t text back,” he explains. “Sun and I went together.”

“How was it?” I ask, softly.

“Things aren’t as bad as they seem. Only one of the broadcasting stations canceled an appearance, the one the ASAP members were scheduled for today. The rest have kept them in their lineups.”

“But that doesn’t mean they might not cancel tomorrow, if the story picks up further.”

“The post was taken down.”

I feel a rush of relief. Whoever Secretary Park was speaking to on the phone must have gotten through to the original poster. The damage has already been done—during ASAP’s debut week, no less—but at least it won’t pick up more momentum than it already has.

“All of it’s true, you know,” I say, trying to keep my voice neutral, without emotion. “What that anonymous poster said about the deal Hyemi’s father had with Joah.”

When my mother told me about the deal, I hadn’t thought twice about it. All I cared was that my mother’s company was in trouble, that my mother was in trouble, and this was a way to fix the problem. I was also distracted by my own worries about the future of my career. Though, when I had the chance to tell Nathaniel, I’d kept him in the dark.

I’d felt ashamed, like he’d think badly of my mother, of me. Business practices and shady deals are normal in the spaces that people like my father and mother occupy. But Nathaniel has never been exposed to that part of this world, one that feels almost second nature to me.

“Did Hyemi’s father hand over any money to Joah?” Nathaniel asks. I study his face, but his expression is uncharacteristically unreadable.

I shake my head. “Not yet.”

“Then it’s not true,” he says simply.

“But it will be. That is, it has to be...”

“Why does Joah need Woo Hyemi’s father’s money?” he asks.

“I... It’s not my place to say.”

“If Joah needs money, then I can—”

“No,” I say, my heart dropping. I don’t want Nathaniel anywhere near this. “It’s my mother’s responsibility.” And mine, as her daughter.

“It’s normal for idols to buy shares in their company,” Nathaniel says with a frown. “Sun already owns a few.”

“He bought them as an investment at the time. You’d be buying them for...”

“For you.”

“No.” I shake my head vehemently. “I don’t... I don’t want any money to be involved.”

It’s not just that I don’t want him to get involved in any of the questionable choices made by the company, but I also don’t want money to enter into our relationship.

I think of my father, who solves everything with money, who bought my mother a house to placate her after his first public affair, who controls her life by owning the majority shares of her company. I want to protect Nathaniel from that. I want to protect us from that.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated. I want to help.” He sweeps a hand through his dark hair, leaning back in the plastic chair. It raises briefly on two legs before hitting the ground with a thump.

“Are you angry?” I ask.

He blinks at me, his brow furrowing. “About what?”

“That I didn’t tell you about Hyemi. That I was helping her to debut so that her father would invest.”

He sits up in the chair, looking at me. “But that’s not true.”

“It is true, even if he hasn’t invested.” Even if he probably never will after today’s disaster.

Nathaniel shakes his head. “You were helping Hyemi because you were the only person who could get her ready to debut in such a short time. You trained with her, guided her through variety shows and drama sets. You didn’t do all that because you wanted to get Hyemi’s father to pay Joah, you did all that because you wanted to, because you enjoyed it, because you were good at it.”

My pulse races at his words, my skin flushing. This conversation is getting out of hand. I can’t feel this way.

“This scandal is bad,” I whisper. “Joah can’t have another one.”

“I don’t see why they would, unless Sun has a secret baby he hasn’t told us about.” He laughs.

“Nathaniel.” That’s all I say, just his name.

He goes still. “No.”

His eyes meet mine. “Last night, you said you meant it.”

“I did. But that was before today.”

“Why? Because of the scandal?”

I could tell him about the contract, about KS acquiring Joah, but what would that accomplish? He’s producing a song with an artist from KS. If he finds out that KS might be acquiring Joah, he might back out of this project he’s been so excited about.

“Maybe we should announce a relationship,” Nathaniel says. “It’ll draw the heat off Hyemi.”

“Nathaniel, be serious.”

“That was a legitimate suggestion.” He’s joking, but there’s a catch in his voice. I’ve hurt him. I’m hurting him.

But I have to. For his sake, and mine. For the sake of the company.

“Joah can’t afford to have another scandal right now. Someone will find out about us. We weren’t exactly careful at the party last night.” We weren’t cautious at all, kissing with only a wall separating us from the others. I don’t know if I can hide my feelings from him, and I don’t know if he can hide his feelings from me.

“The reasons why we broke up haven’t changed,” I say. “If anything, they’ve gotten more heightened. Hyemi hasn’t even been an idol for one day and she’s already receiving hundreds of hate comments. ASAP has had an appearance canceled, maybe more. It would be so much worse if the tabloids found out about us. Your career...”

“Don’t make this about my career. I want you. I know what that means.”

My stomach flutters.

“The situation with Hyemi is different,” Nathaniel says, his voice low. “She’s a rookie. She doesn’t have fans who will support her, not yet. XOXO fans are different. They’ll have my back.”

I shake my head. “You can’t know that for certain. What if you’re wrong? What about Sun, Jaewoo, and Youngmin? Don’t you care about how your actions affect them?”

This seems to get through to him because he lowers his head.

“I can’t accept that you’re pushing me away for my sake,” he says.

“Then will you accept that I’m thinking of myself?”

“No.”

“Nathaniel!”

“Do you honestly care what a stranger on the internet says about you?”

“Maybe not one stranger, but five hundred strangers? Yes!”

I take a deep breath. “But it’s more than that. I have a responsibility to the company.” Seeing my mother reminded me of the promise I made to her. “I have more to lose...”

“I have to lose you,” Nathaniel says heatedly. “For me, that’s enough.” He gets to his feet, grabbing his book off the table. “Even if it doesn’t matter to you.” He’s angry, speaking out of his emotions.

He gathers our trash and heads into the convenience store. When he comes out, he doesn’t wait for me, walking ahead of me up the hill toward the house.

I don’t know if it’s the stress from the day or the fight we just had, but tears start to fall from my eyes.

I stop by the vine-covered wall outside my front gate. “Nathaniel.”

He must hear the tears in my voice because he turns. There’s a brief pause, then he’s walking back toward me. He gathers me in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his breath warm against the top of my head. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“I’m scared.”

“We can be careful. We can keep it a secret.”

I shake my head. “We can’t.”

Nathaniel’s arms tighten around me, then he releases me, stepping back. “I should go. I feel like if I stay, I’ll want to hold you, I’ll want to...” He takes an unsteady breath. “I’m going to get my stuff.”

I nod, sniffling. “I’ll wait out here.”

A few minutes later, the front gate opens and Nathaniel comes out again. At the sight of his duffle bag, I have to fight back a fresh wave of tears.

“What about the paparazzi?” I ask.

“They haven’t been around, at least not for the past week.”

Which means he could have left as early as last week but stayed. Because he’d wanted to.

“I’m having a party for the launch of my song on Wednesday. It’s at the Sowon Hotel. Will you come?”

“Yes.”

I want to be there for him.

He looks like he means to say more but stops himself.

He doesn’t say goodbye. Neither do I.

I watch him walk all the way down the hill to the main road. Once he rounds the corner, out of sight, I collapse onto the ground and cry.